


Aquarius, Auriga, Corona Borealis

by tealgreenhealingbeam



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware - Fandom
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealgreenhealingbeam/pseuds/tealgreenhealingbeam
Summary: In the middle of a heist, with Darnold over the comms, it hits Gordon just how bad he's got it for the man. Unfortunately, during the job, that's not the only thing that hits him.
Relationships: Darnold/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Aquarius, Auriga, Corona Borealis

**Author's Note:**

> More specific warnings than in the tags: Mentions of blood, gun violence and death, mentions and semi-detailed descriptions of a panic attack, nightmares, and PTSD; descriptive loss of consciousness.
> 
> If something needs to be tagged or you feel like something should be tagged, never be afraid to lemme know!

Gordon erupts into laughter, doubling over before he collects himself enough to wheeze a reply through the comms.

"Darnold, you- you're gonna kill me."

The man in question chuckles in reply.

"The cops'll do that if you're not careful. Police scanners indicate that they're sending a few more cars out your way, but, mm... it doesn't seem like they're on full alert yet. I'm not thinking they realize who they're comin' to meet."

"Don't think it'd help 'em even if they did!" Gordon laughs, ducking beneath a counter as he reloads. He knows Darnold was incredibly unsure of the whole thing when they first started out, but god is he glad they have him on the team. He's a damned genius, sharp as a tack, and endlessly hilarious. Not like their heists are ever dull, but they wouldn't be nearly as fun if Darnold wasn't on the line, Gordon thinks. 

The drill chimes in finality, and the Science Team crowds around in wait. The second the vault opens, they're on the money in an instant, piling stacks into duffel bags with practiced efficacy. Gordon briefly wonders what the hell they'd even try to spend all this on before remembering that it stopped being about the money a long time ago. Now, it was more symbolic than anything, about paying the world back for all the wrongs it had wrought against them. 

When they had made it through hell, stopped the apocalypse before it could overtake the world beyond Black Mesa, their reward was dark cars parked outside their homes and suits on their doorsteps pushing their way inside, unconvinced that hush money or an agreement put to paper would ensure silence, and deciding to take... "necessary action". Each of them were beaten, cuffed, shoved into a van. Black Mesa made one fatal fuck-up, though: they didn't separate them. The escape was as violent and explosive as anyone should have come to expect from the Science Team. Then, sitting in some motel where buzzing fluorescents flickered and the roar of the highway was like distant thunder, it was clear that going back to any sort of normalcy just wasn't in the cards for them. Tommy brought up Gordon's idea spoken in delirium from before, about robbing a bank, and the instant he did, they were all in. 

The Team realized that they'd need someone to be away from the fight, someone who could oversee things, make sure their jobs went smoothly, but none of them really had the mindset or tenacity to fit that bill. That was where Darnold came in. Tommy had saved his number when they met him in the labs, and as it turned out, he was going through the same thing they had- Black Mesa constantly on his tail and him never feeling safe enough to stop moving. Gordon remembers one time after they brought him into the fold, when Darnold had said that they'd saved him. Now, Gordon's sure it was the other way around. He can't count the number of times Darnold's gotten them out of some dire circumstances, either with crucial info they couldn't have gone without, or with an amazingly orchestrated getaway that felt like it had been ripped straight from an action movie.

Recalling all of this, Gordon realizes just how incredibly fond he's grown of him, all in just under a year's time. Damn... the guy meant a lot to him. He really ought to tell Darnold as much once they get back. Gordon laughs to himself, finding the timing of realizing all this a bit funny. 

"What are you laughing about? You find another guy who says he's willing to direct your jobs, and he's _funnier_ than me?" Darnold crackles over the earpiece in mock upset. "Well, now I'll have to call Microsoft and get them to uninstall the new update from my computer! I suppose we're done here!"

The callback to the first joke he made on a job is enough for Gordon to lose it, nearly crying as he buries his face in his hands before remembering, _oh yeah,_ we're in the middle of a bank robbery and I should probably be a bit more tuned in to what's happening around me. He heads back to the vault for his second bag. Leave it to his brain to abandon rationality when Darnold's humor's a part of the equation. 

_Your brain abandons all kinds of shit when Darnold's involved,_ Gordon's thoughts supply, and he goes red, tips of his ears burning as he tries and fails spectacularly not to think about it. He's been getting thoughts like that a lot lately, thoughts that make him feel ways he doesn't feel like he should feel. 

_Darnold has never indicated that he is in to you! You're friends!_ Gordon shouts in his head, but his brain is two steps ahead of him with a _Yeah, okay, if you say so... but remember when?_ and Gordon's suddenly remembering every interaction that's made him question if their friendship could ever be something more.

He remembers one night spent at their old safehouse, where he had a horrible dream, one that replayed the severing of his arm in excruciating detail. Darnold had been the only other person there that night, and he found Gordon backed into a corner, left hand's nails clawed deep above the stump of his right, blood beading beneath his fingernails as he was gasping, sobbing, and unresponsive. Darnold brought him down from one of the worst panic attacks Gordon remembers ever having, did deep breathing with him for around half an hour until he was finally coherent enough to speak. That was when he told him exactly how he'd come to lose his hand. Darnold just listened quietly, and spoke softly during his pauses, and held him as he trembled and fell apart, and Gordon gripped the other man's arms like they were the only thing holding him together. Maybe they were.

He remembers that time Darnold invited the Team over to his for dinner, and Gordon had one hell of a black eye from a job earlier in the day. Darnold insisted on doing something for it, made him hold a pork chop to his eye, and Gordon sat on the counter while he watched him work on dinner. He had playlists for every chore or activity, and cooking wasn't an exception. He was having the time of his life singing into a whisk, hands patting along the countertops to the beat, dancing between the pantry and the stove to grab what he needed and put things away. Gordon remembers Darnold asking if he was okay, that he had just been staring for the last five minutes, and Gordon subsequently remembers answering a little too quickly that he had never been better.

He remembers when Darnold was with the Science Team while they worked upkeep and repairs on their guns, all of them crowded in Gordon's garage, each paired up at separate workbenches. Coomer and Bubby on one, Benrey and Tommy on another, and him and Darnold on the last. Gordon said something stupid, something that got Darnold to laugh so hard he cried. He remembers the sound of his laugh, clear and lovely as a bell, remembers the warm hand that clapped his back, remembers practically catching Darnold when he backed up a bit too far and tripped over his own feet, remembers that making him laugh even harder as Gordon joined him, still holding onto him, and the rest of the Team laughed alongside them.

The sound of Darnold's voice, coming in panicked over the line, jolts Gordon out of his thoughts and makes his stomach plummet.

"Fuck! They were using short wave communication for their actual movements- what came through on the police scanner was a plant! They're sending in specialized teams, several! You have to get out, now!"

Gunfire erupts from the lobby immediately after Darnold finishes. Gordon pales. _Shit, shit, shit._ He abandons the money completely, turning frantically out of the vault and running for the stairs. He hops over the railing halfway down, crashing knee-first into two soldiers, and Gordon is immediately thrown into the fray. 

Cover fire for Tommy while he reloads. Shooting a marine trying to come up behind Coomer. Firing alongside Bubby as the waves intensify. Back to back with Benrey in the lobby's middle.

Eventually, everyone but Tommy and Gordon have managed to slip through the back and into the van. Tommy throws down a smoke grenade, and they dive through it, making a break for the door. Tommy's ahead of Gordon, and as he opens the door, Gordon immediately locks eyes with the marine waiting on the other side.

_"Tommy!"_

It all happens in a second. Gordon yanks Tommy behind him, makes himself as big as he can, arms pulled over his head, and the soldier fires. The rounds knock Gordon backward. Tommy catches him, fires once, twice, three times over Gordon's shoulder, and the marine drops.

_"God,_ Gordon! What were you thi-"

"Shit, Tommy, move!" Gordon cuts him off and fires the last of his clip behind them at the group now tearing down the hallway. They're running past the door, across the short parking lot, throwing themselves onto the floor of the van as the back doors swing open, and they're gone.

"Woo!" Benrey hollers, hands drumming the dashboard from where they're sitting up front.

"Is everyone okay?" Darnold cranes his neck from the driver's seat.

"Mr. Freeman, you-"

"I'm good! I'm good!"

"No, you're not!" Tommy huffs. "He took a bullet for me! Two! Fucking suh- shotgun rounds! Point blank!"

"Look, th- the suit prot--"

_"Gordon,"_ Darnold gasps, and the van falls completely silent.

Blood seeps out over the floor as they all stare with wide eyes.

"D- Darnold?" 

The motions that happen next are too fast for Gordon to follow as his head begins to swim, and it's closer to say he's drowning. Benrey's suddenly at the wheel now as Darnold slides to the back and begins tearing through a med bag while questions and demands fly from his mouth at blinding speeds. At some point, Gordon is moved onto his back, and Tommy and Coomer are at either side. Bubby's making hurried phone calls at Darnold's instruction. Gordon winces and clenches his eyes shut tight as someone jostles off the torso plates and pulls at the shirt underneath.

"Gordon, I need you to keep talking to me," Darnold's voice trembles. "At close range, shotgun rounds are- they're much worse than other bullet wounds. There may be a wider area of effect than we think. We could be dealing with slugs or flechett- Gordon, _please_ keep talking to me. We need to put down pressure- Gordon? Gordon, can you hear me?"

Suddenly, Darnold's hands are cupping his face, and _wow_ , he's close, faces inches apart as he desperately scans Gordon's eyes for recognition, for consciousness. Lacking the lucidity to think it through or feel embarrassed, Gordon raises a shaking hand, and laces his fingers in between where Darnold's lie over his cheek.

"It- it's okay. It'll... it'll be... okay, I--"

"Gordon..." His tone is so quiet, barely audible, and Gordon can feel it when he shudders and presses his hand closer.

"It's okay... it's..."

Gordon's words fall away as he falls completely still.

* * *

Gordon experiences consciousness in bits and pieces. Recalls himself bleeding on the floor of the van, Darnold repeating the first five letters of the alphabet under his breath. Recalls someone putting firm pressure over his wounds and his mouth opening in a scream he couldn't hear over the blood rushing in his ears. Recalls himself being carried on someone's back as they switched cars in their getaway. Recalls the Team exchanging hurried words with a voice he didn't recognize, and Darnold calling his name as he slips back under. Then, for a while, nothing.

When Gordon comes to again, he stirs incredibly slowly, body feeling exceedingly heavy even though he can feel he's no longer in the suit. There's a shift of something small and plastic against his left arm and under his nose- tubing, Gordon realizes- but he's too tired for the odd sensation to startle him. He then takes note of how comfortable he is, even against the relentless pangs of shooting pain up his right side and the soreness that lies over his entire body. He's surrounded by something soft and plush from all sides, a cozy warmth pulled up to his shoulders. Gentle sunlight casts itself in beams over his face from someplace above. Birdsong and the rustling sounds and smell of pine trees fill the space, and it's so idyllic and peaceful that it feels like it has to be fake. Gordon briefly wonders if this is it, if he's passed on and this is what waits for him.

When he finally manages to pry his eyes open, and Darnold is there, asleep and partially sprawled over his lap, a hand loosely closed around his own, Gordon is now positive that this is all just some highly-detailed death dream his mind's eye is playing for him as it fades.

He tries to remain as quiet as possible for the other man's sake, wants nothing more than to give in to what his tired eyes want as they're already beginning to slip closed. He puts too much weight on his right side trying to resettle, unable to bite back the subsequent yelp of pain.

Darnold jolts awake, squeezing Gordon's hand before quickly pulling away and up when he realizes what position he's fallen into. His face grows a shade darker.

"Gordon! I'm- I'm so sorry, I must've fell asleep, I- well, no, obviously I did. I just--"

"Hey, hey, it's okay! We're good, man! We're--" Gordon raises his hands too quickly. He immediately caves inward, hissing in a breath through his teeth as his right arm hovers above his side, and Gordon only belatedly realizes his prosthetic is on the side table to his left.

"Are you okay? Damn, hold on- s'posed to give these to you once you were up and at 'em."

Darnold gently unfurls Gordon's hand from where it's curled into a fist, and drops a handful of pills into his palm, glass of water waiting in his other hand.

Right as Gordon's about to down the medicine and accept the cup, he stops.

"You're shaking."

"Huh?" Darnold looks to his own hands, eyes widening a bit when he sees that Gordon's right.  
"I--" He turns away, expression a mix of embarrassed, conflicted, and just... sad. He looks so troubled that it makes Gordon's heart sink, the beating of it turned strenuous and pained.

"Darnold--"

"Alright, so I'm- I'm shaking! Maybe that's just because I haven't be- been able to sleep for more than two hours at a time because I'm damn worried sick! Maybe it's because one of my closest friends almost got himself killed! Maybe- m- maybe--!"

"Hey-- whoa, whoa, hold on, man. You gotta-- you've got to breathe with me, okay?"

Only at Gordon's words does Darnold take notice of how labored his breathing has grown, of the tension he holds in his shoulders that makes his back ache, of how close he's walked the border of a full-blown anxiety attack, of the frustrated, furious, incredibly _relieved_ tears building up behind his eyes.

Darnold makes a split-second decision. He sets the glass back on the nightstand, rubs the heel of his hand against his eyes to clear them, stands, and walks to Gordon's left. He sits himself on the edge of the bed, mouth pressed into a hard line and eyebrows creased as he stares at the floor, and suddenly, Darnold leans forward and pulls Gordon into his arms.

Gordon could cry. Not even at just the touch alone, but from how careful the other man has been, the clear concern he expressed, the months and months of affection and happiness he's felt with him, for him, about him--

"God, I fuckin' love you," Gordon mumbles.  
Darnold freezes.

"I mean-! I didn't mean to say it li-- I-it wa- it's something I was thinking about. During the- the heist, actually. I started thinking about, like... just how much you've done since you've come into it with us! You're just- you're so fuckin' smart, and funny, and- a-and I really... wanted you to know."

"Wanted me to know... what?"

That was where the thought had stopped. Gordon had never intended to say anything after it. But Darnold was asking after something, dark eyes gleaming in wordless question, and they've both started leaning in, their eyes haven't left each other for a second, and then it's like wires have all aligned and connected and come alive with arcing electricity when their lips grace each other with touch. Even with oxygen running directly to him, his lungs feel unable to draw in air. Gordon feels absolutely lightheaded, and he never wants it to end.

Gordon sees stars. The water bearer. Darnold always made himself first to hop up and refill his drink when they ate together. The glass he kept in wait and extended today. The charioteer. When Darnold held Gordon in his arms as he wept. When he carried Gordon on his back as he bled. The northern crown. Modifiers Darnold made to Gordon's pistols he cherished and never switched out. The sound of his laugh, what felt like a gift the world left just for Gordon.

They part, and Darnold looks absolutely dazed. Eyes half-lidded as he catches his breath, almost wheezing, hair frazzled from where Gordon's fingers ran through it while they kissed. Gordon thought he looked like a dream. This must have been.

"I- w-was- was that--"

Any uncertainty, any protests, any doubt that this was something Gordon had somehow forced between them melted away as he did against Darnold when he was pulled back in a second time. Then a third. Then a fourth, kept short as they both sit back to breathe.

"I've been flirting with you for months, Gordon. Trying, at least," Darnold murmurs, fingers tracing the blanket's pattern.

"Wh-- _huh?"_

Darnold laughs, a wonderful sound that makes Gordon feel like he's glowing, makes him feel that he could very well replace the sun with the molten feeling that drips and seeps through his chest. Darnold looks at him like he already has.

"Y'ever notice how I remembered all your favorites? That that's almost _all_ I ever cook when you all come over for dinner? Tommy teases me about it every time! You know that half of all my playlists are groups you've recommended? Ones I've gotten into just because it was _you_ who told me about 'em? Remember when you had that horrible dream, just you and me at the safehouse? Gordon, I held you for hours and combed my fingers through your hair! Hell, did you not realize I was tracing hearts on your back almost that entire time?"

"Oh." 

Darnold laughs again.

"Man, I- I guess I was so convinced that it just wouldn't happen. That I was drawing up shit that wasn't there, I could just- I would have never imagined that you'd--"

"It's okay," Darnold sighs, leaning in closer. "I never thought you'd feel the way about me how I felt about you. I was in the same boat. If I can get a little corny, though," he cards his fingers through Gordon's hair. "I think that ship's sailed."

Gordon can't help himself from wheezing out laughter, head falling against Darnold's shoulder as he joins in laughing along with him. He shuts Gordon up quick, though, when he nudges his face in the crook of his neck and leaves light kisses over the skin. Suddenly, time moves like honey, achingly slow, dripping carefully, knowingly, overwhelmingly sweet, their heads buzzing and full and brimming with affections overly eager to be expressed.

Darnold pulls away, scooting back to help Gordon ease into the nest of pillows and blankets he's been placed in. Gordon pulls him in by the arm, a silent invitation, a request, a plea not to leave, as if Darnold wanted to be anywhere else. He carefully rests his legs over Gordon's, lays his head across his chest. Darnold's sigh is long and deep as it leaves his lungs, and Gordon presses one more sleepy, slow kiss to his lips, and they're drifting off together.

They're found that way an hour later when Tommy brings Darnold lunch. They're both fast asleep, both snoring quietly, both probably going to be sore as hell later on from the positions they've slumped into, and Tommy thinks neither of them have ever looked more at home than they did then. He leaves the tray on a bedside table, comes back with a second plate for Gordon, and shuts the door behind him quietly, smiling to himself as he heads down the hall. 

Just a little longer. They both deserve just a little bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> OK! Took a break from writing by... writing, I guess? I know this was probably a bit of a surprise, but hopefully a good one! I think it's a shame that there's not more content for this ship- it's a good one! I'm still a huge sucker for Frenreylatta, but Orange Soda's got potential, man! They're cute together!
> 
> Also! I wanted to mention: I have a HLVRAI sideblog @ peeperpuppyden on Tumblr- come yell at me if you wanna! I may also do requests, depending on time and how much I dig the idea. I'd love to see what people send in! It could be really fun. Note that there may be some requests given that I won't do! NSFW especially, since I believe cast has made clear about being uncomfortable with that sort of content. Aside from that, not all of the requests will appeal to me, and I'm sorry for that! But I can't put the amount of effort in that it deserves if I'm personally not feeling it.
> 
> I was gonna hold this off and maybe release this and a few others with tons of different ships as like a fun lil Valentine's thing, but I couldn't help it! It was fun writing this one and I really wanted to share it. If that idea's something that interests you though, please lemme know and I'll see if I can make it happen! Bye for now!


End file.
